Close Your Eyes
by ScarlettSunshine
Summary: "I'm alone with Lily Evans, in a dark, tiny space and I'm acting like a toddler who's afraid of the dark," he said. "A little bit, yes," she agreed. "But on the other hand, I'm alone with James Potter, in a dark, tiny space, and I don't even mind so much. So it's a strange situation for the both of us." He nodded, the left corner of his mouth pulling up. "Strange situation indeed."


"This doesn't happen in real life."

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Potter."

"Considering the circumstances, I'd say it does in fact."

"What?" she asked.

"Happen in real life." James looked around, raking a hand through his hair as the nervousness began to bubble within him. "You know, because, here we are."

"Shut up," Lily grumbled, shuffling back until her shoulder blades met the edge of a shelf. "Would you just call your mates and tell them to let us out now? I have an essay due. I need that grade."

James' hand found the doorknob in the darkness and he wrenched at it yet again, aiming his wand at the metal and shooting off a few spells. "I don't know where they are," he said.

"I've tried those," she said irately, watching as he continued to mutter spells. She withdrew her own wand and lit it with a quick murmur. She watched in slight amusement as his eyes blinked rapidly behind his spectacles, adjusting to the bright light.

"So, what, you're friends locked you in a closet and left you?" she asked.

"My friends didn't do anything," James said angrily. "If I recall correctly, it was _you_ who shut the door."

"Only because you startled me!" she exclaimed. "It was an _accident_. I didn't _shut_ the door; I _bumped into_ the door. And what in Merlin's name were you doing in a broom closet anyway?"

He put his weight into it as he pushed at the door. The knob still wouldn't turn. "Filch sent me to get a bucket," he grumbled.

"Oh, you're good friends with him now?" Lily asked mockingly.

"I had a detention," James snapped, pulling a hand through his dark hair. He turned towards her and fixed her with a stare. "And what brought _you_ in here then?" he questioned.

"The door was open, I was shutting it."

"You shut every open door in the castle?" he asked sardonically.

"It's a closet!" she defended. "I couldn't imagine why anyone would be hanging around inside. And who enters a closet without turning a light on?"

"I was just grabbing a bucket!" he exclaimed. He could think of a few reasons people would spend time in a closet, all of which were rather appealing to him if Lily was his company, but not when they were _locked in_ the closet. Not when he felt trapped. Not when he could picture the walls closing in on him.

"So?" Lily asked.

He couldn't remember what he'd said. "Well…do you always _enter_ a closet to shut the door?" he asked.

"Something moved! Forgive me for investigating!" She threw her hands up. "You could've said something. You startled me."

"Maybe you're not cut out for investigating then." When she didn't say anything further, James turned and began pounding a fist on the door.

"WILL SOMEONE GET US THE HELL OUT‽" he bellowed. "ANYONE? WE'RE LOCKED IN!"

"Everyone's in class, dimwit," Lily snapped. "No one's going to hear you."

James looked around, stretching his arms out and finding that he couldn't even extend them fully without hitting a door or cold stonewall. He turned and repeated the motion. Lily dodged his hand as it came towards her. His hand touched the shelf behind her while a broom handle pressed into his tailbone. The closet wasn't even an arm's length wide.

Lily sighed, swept her red locks over her shoulder and dropped her bag to the dusty floor, sinking down beside it. "Look," she resigned, "we'll just have to wait until first class is over. I'm too tired to deal with this and there's nothing we can do anyway."

"That's an hour and an half," James said incredulously.

She nodded. "Trust me, Potter," she drawled, "I'm well aware."

James looked at her, around the small space, and then back at the door. His fist resumed its heavy, frantic rhythm. "HEY! HEY! For fuck's sake, someone's gotta be out there. HEY! LET US OUT!"

"No one is there," Lily snapped. "They're all in class. Where we should be. We'll just have to wait." She crossed her arms and sat back.

He continued to bang on the door.

"Potter, cut it out. They can't hear you. You'll yell yourself hoarse."

He was relentless.

"Potter!"

"HEY! HELLO? CAN ANYONE—"

"No!" she cried. "No, they can't hear you! Seriously, have you no patience?"

He wasn't paying attention to her, hardly hearing her as his focus remained on getting out. His forceful knocking went on.

"You're going to give me a headache," she growled, "would you just cut it out? What's wrong with you?"

He stopped abruptly, his chest rising and falling rapidly. She watched as his arms dropped to his sides. She raised her wand, casting a glow up towards him. From her place on the ground she could clearly see his hands. "Are—are you _shaking_?" she asked. He wasn't focused on her, still staring at the door. He looked pale. "Potter? Potter, are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"You're trembling."

"I'm fine."

"James." She reached up and gripped his hand. His palm was sweaty and she could feel the tremors running through him. "Are you sick?" she questioned.

"I think I might be."

"Wait." She paused. "You're not…you're not claustrophobic, are you?" She let go of his hand, wiping her palm on her skirt.

"No."

"Are you sure? Because it seems like you might be," she commented.

"Maybe a little," he admitted. "In certain…in certain situations. Is it hot in here?"

"No," she said, watching as he shrugged out of his robe and tugged at his tie.

"Why don't you sit down?" she suggested.

"I don't want to—"

"Just sit, Potter," she ordered. "Try to relax, okay? Breathe."

He sat, promptly toppling over as his bottom met something other than the ground, falling sideways onto the floor. "What the hell?" he muttered.

Lily laughed. "I found Filch's bucket."

"Great." He kicked the culprit aside and sat directly opposite her. His feet were flat on the floor, his knees apart, and her own feet were planted in the empty space between them, allowing them to fit in the small space together. She looked around. There wasn't a whole lot in there, but it was tiny, so the couple of brooms, broken chair, and folded ladder made it awfully crowded.

"So…are you going to be okay?" she asked. "I mean, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were claustrophobic." Well, how could she?

"I'm not. It's not that bad," he insisted, even as he wondered if the closet was charmed. Was the space getting smaller? "Can we not talk about it?"

"Okay."

She fell silent, reaching into her bag and sifting through for a novel. The best she found was her history of magic text. She skimmed the table of contents before turning to page ninety-six and beginning to read, her wand moving down the page to light the words.

In any other circumstance he would have been ecstatic to be alone with Lily Evans, the girl he'd been chasing for the last two years. He would've jumped at the opportunity for it to be just the two of them. But, not like this. He couldn't concentrate on flirting when he was trapped. Not to mention his inability to dodge any jinxes she sent his way. There's wasn't a lot of space move around.

He could feel his heart rate picking up in panic. "We don't have to not talk at all," he said.

"Hm?" She looked up to see him slipping his tie over his head and undoing the top buttons o f his shirt. When his fingers continued down and buttons continued to slip from fabric, her eyes widened. His undershirt fit him _very _well. "Potter, why are you undressing?" she demanded.

"I'm sorry," he said. He left his shirt lying open but decided against taking it off. "It's just really hot in here."

At any other time she'd have assumed that was another attempt of his to come on to her, she was finding it kind of cold really, but his expression showed no trace of a smirk. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked.

He ignored the question. "Nobody reads that," he said, changing the subject entirely.

"Pardon?"

"The textbook," he clarified. "Nobody reads that bloody thing. Ever."

"If I'm going to be in here, I might as well get a head start on the day's lesson," she said.

"Right," he agreed dryly. "So, what do you think of it?"

"Of what?"

"The Goblin Rebellion of 1712," he replied.

"You want to talk about history of magic with me?" she asked in disbelief. "Goblin rebellions?"

He nodded. "Anything," he said. "Just…" He swallowed. "Until we get out of here."

"Oh." Lily closed the book and set it aside, cluing in to his discomfort. "Um…here. _Nox_." The space went dark as her wand went out and she sent a cooling charm his way before lighting her wand once again. "Any better?" she asked.

He nodded. "Thanks."

"Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Close your eyes," she repeated. "Picture yourself somewhere else." When he didn't do as she instructed, she added, "Humour me."

His eyes shut and his head tilted back against the wall. "Now what?"

If all he wanted was a distraction, she thought it cruel to deny him conversation. She took a deep breath. "I think the rebellion was a little ridiculous," she said. "The goblins were being irrational, asking for too much, and the rebellion itself was probably the least effective way they could have gone about getting what they wanted."

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, not catching his meaning.

"We're going to talk about goblin rebellions?" he said incredulously.

She nodded, though his eyes were closed. "A very key event in magical history," she said.

"Why?"

"It was a large turning point for magical creatures as a whole," she explained.

He didn't say anything. She watched as his chest moved with slow, even breaths. Clearly his focus was elsewhere. "What'd you get detention for this time?" she asked.

"Couple of sixth years stole a fourth year's books," he said. "Wrote some pretty perverted things in it. She came into the common room crying, so we charmed their texts to bite them."

"And that solved it?" she asked disapprovingly.

"We cleaned her books out, too."

"We?" Lily prompted.

"There were a lot of books," he said. "Pete helped nick them, Sirius and Remus did some of the charms work."

Of course all four of them had to get involved, Lily thought. "So, if they were helping Filch too," she asked, "how come they haven't come looking for you?"

She watched his eyebrows furrow in confusion. "I was the only one in detention," he said, realizing her assumption. "Sirius can't take another demerit for at least a month or so and they didn't suspect Remus or Pete."

"You took the fall yourself then?" she asked.

"Responsibility," he corrected. "Yes. It's not like I didn't do it."

"What was Filch having you do?"

He laughed humourlessly. "Beat the tapestries and mop the boys' loo," he told her.

Lily pulled a face. "Yuck."

"No shit," he agreed. "Or, fortunately, no shit actually. Though it's shocking how many blokes can't aim."

She shook her head. "I didn't need to know that."

James shrugged. "Just keeping you well-informed," he joked.

"I take it that's what the bucket was for?" she said. "Mopping?"

"I hope so," he said. "Merlin knows what else Filch would have me do."

Her head tilted to the right curiously. "Filch hasn't come looking for you either," she noted.

"Yes, we've established no one in the castle cares about my whereabouts," he told her. "And where are _your_ friends, Miss Evans?"

"In class," she said. "I was running back to the Great Hall. I left my quill set. They've probably assumed I was called for heads' duties, seeing as you're absent as well."

James nodded, eyes still closed. "Do you have any phobias?" he asked.

"Um, no," she answered.

"There's gotta be something you're afraid of," he said, pushing his sleeves up his arms and slouching down a bit. Lily watched his forearms flex.

She cleared her throat. "Sure," she agreed, "but I wouldn't call any of them phobias."

"Fears then," he amended. "What are they?"

She frowned. "That's a little personal, Potter."

"I'm dying over here," he told her. "I've basically shown you mine. There has to be something you're willing to share."

She sighed, watching him carefully, taking pity on him as he twisted the ends of his shirt. "I'm scared of fire," she confessed. "Public speaking. And whales."

"Whales?" he echoed.

"Yes."

"Why?" he asked. "Aren't whales the ones that only eat the little shrimp things?"

"Krill," she corrected. "Some whales. But have you seen how giant they are?"

His mouth pulled into the slightest grin. "Can't say I have," he told her. "At least, not first hand."

"They're huge. Really, really, big," she said, cringing at the thought. "And they have all these weird, bristly things in their mouths. Like the street cleaners. They'd sweep you up and swallow you whole."

He laughed. "You've put a lot of thought into this."

"Surely you invest a good amount of time in your fears," she returned.

"I try not to," he said.

Perhaps now wasn't the time to discuss that particular fear further. "Right," she said. "Well. Do you have any others?"

"Erm, no."

"Oh, come on," she said, swishing her wand from side to side, watching the light dance on the walls. "I just gave you three."

"I'd really rather not," James said.

"I didn't exactly volunteer the information either," she pointed out. "You're being volun-_told_, Potter. Go on."

"Alright," he relented, mussing his unruly hair. "I'm afraid of people on stilts. And dying alone."

"Marriage is high on your list of priorities then?" she asked curiously.

"Well, yes," he said, "but just alone in general. Without anyone at all. A funeral where no one shows up, no one cares. I'm very concerned about leaving a mark on the world, you know?" he asked.

"With your personality?" she teased. "You'll hardly go by unnoticed."

"Thanks," he said unsurely.

"I suppose it is a bit of a compliment." She hummed. "Care to explain the stilts?"

"Recurring childhood nightmare," he said. "Not much more to it."

"I see." She took a small section of her hair and began to plait it, for lack of anything better to do, forming a thin rope within her curls.

"Lily?" James said a few moments later.

She looked up. His eyes were still shut. "Yes?" she asked.

He sighed. "Sorry I got us locked in a closet."

"Shush," she whispered. "We're not in a closet, remember? We're somewhere else. Somewhere…spacious." She smiled, and he smiled too, though he couldn't see her. "Besides," she continued, "it's not entirely your fault we're in here. I did shut the door."

"You did," he agreed.

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "It was an _accident_!"

"You said it, not me," he told her.

"James?"

He opened his eyes as he grinned at her. "Yes?"

"Close your eyes," she said. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry, sorry." His eyes fell shut. "You called me James."

"Sure," she replied. "That's your name, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he conceded. "But you call me Potter."

"Sorry," she said. "Potter it is, then."

"No. No, I'd rather you call me James."

"Okay then." She blushed, glad for the darkness.

"What were you saying?" he prompted.

"Oh. I…my legs have gone numb," she admitted.

"Oh. Here." He pulled his legs in, sitting cross-legged. His eyes remained closed as his hands came forward and found her kneecaps, sliding down her shins and calves. Her legs were numb and yet they weren't immune to his touch. She felt tingles all through her, not just her legs. His fingers curled gently around her ankles and pulled, stretching her legs out on an angle to fit in the limited space and rest against his knee. "Comfortable?" he asked.

"Better," she said.

"You could sit on the bucket," he suggested.

"I'm not sitting on the bucket."

"Fair enough."

They laughed quietly and then continued on. They talked about classes, the essays they were supposed to be handing in at the moment, some of the prefects they had to put up with, the latest divination unit, their friends. It was actually sort of nice talking to him when he was this way, distracted to the point of complete genuineness. Although, strangely enough, she did find herself missing his annoying comebacks, the flirting and teasing. Not that he wasn't flirting with her, or making fun of her, just that she could tell his whole heart wasn't into it. Half of his mind was busy picturing the quidditch pitch, or at least, that's what he told her.

It was him, but not entirely him, and she was startled by how much she missed the other part.

"How long have we been in here?" James had his wrist in line with his nose as he squinted down at the face of his watch.

Lily reached forward and took his hand, pulling it towards her and using her wand for the light to read the time. "Should be another twenty minutes," she said. "How are you doing?"

"Fine." His eyes flicked to hers as she continued to hold his hand. He wasn't shaking anymore, and his palm wasn't sweaty, just warm, but he had a feeling that might change soon if she didn't let go.

His stare was causing butterflies to erupt in her stomach. "Eyes shut," she reminded. "Focus on the qudditch pitch."

He shook his head. "I'd rather focus on you." His grin was disarming, even when half-hearted.

"What a line," she said.

His smile widened slightly. "Lily, I think I'm having trouble breathing again."

"You are not," she told him.

"Sure I am. You must have—"

"Taken your breath away," she finished for him. "Good Godric, that's corny."

He looked around, eyeing the door. Suddenly he was beginning to feel overly warm again. "Can you hit me with another one of those charms?" he asked.

"Sure." She flicked her wand at him, using the hand that wasn't still held in his and he sighed.

"Twenty minutes, right?"

"Eighteen by now," she told him. "Are you okay?"

His hand tightened around hers as she made to withdraw it. "I think this closet's gotten smaller."

"It hasn't," she assured. "Close your eyes. Breathe. You've plenty of space."

His eyes shut tightly. "This sucks," he groaned.

She shook her head. "You've made it over an hour and _now_ you're panicking?" she asked. "James, you're fine. Don't." She took his other hand. "Panic." She squeezed gently.

His face turned heavenward. "I'm alone with Lily Evans, in a dark, tiny space and I'm acting like a toddler who's afraid of the dark," he said.

She laughed. "A little bit, yes," she agreed. "But on the other hand, I'm alone with James Potter, in a dark, tiny space, and I don't even mind so much. I haven't any inclination to hex you right now. So it's a strange situation for the both of us."

"You don't?" he asked. "Want to hex me, that is?"

"Not even a little," she confirmed.

He nodded, the left corner of his mouth pulling up. "Strange situation indeed."

She smiled, releasing his hands. "I like you right now," she said.

"Really?"

"Mhm."

He licked his lips. "Will you still like me when we get out of this closet?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said thoughtfully. "I hope so."

"You're not the only one."

He could feel her moving around in the small space but resisted the urge to open his eyes. "How do you feel?" she whispered.

She sounded closer now, which was quite the feat considering how small the closet was. She had been fairly close to begin with. "Slightly dizzy," he said.

"Hm." She hummed. "James?"

"Yeah?"

She said the words before she could overthink them. "Would you mind if I kissed you right now?"

His eyes flew open. "Fuck no," he said, "but why—" Her lips were on his.

He was tense against her as her lips pressed to his, warm and soft and still as she waited for a reaction, her hands on either side of his face. Her heart was pounding. "Close your eyes," she murmured, pulling back only a fraction of an inch. His eyes shut and then not a second later he had his arms wrapped tightly round her waist, she was swept into his lap and his mouth was moving expertly over hers.

She sighed into him, her arms looping around his neck, her fingers playing with his hair. The way his hands splayed flat on her back and pressed her closer, the faint scent of cologne and cinnamon on him. She was melting in his arms.

"Wait," he said.

"What is it?"

"What are we doing?" he asked. "What—why—I don't—?"

She sighed breathlessly, shaking her head. Her wand lay lit and forgotten on the floor, casting a fuzzy glow. Her hands came up and removed his glasses, folding them and tossing them onto her bag. "Just shut up and let me distract you." She resumed kissing him, her hands resting on his chest and sliding up to his shoulders.

He didn't need to be told twice. His tongue swiped her lower lip slowly, assuredly but without demand. Her lips parted to let him in.

The quiet hum she emitted as his lips left hers to move across her jaw did crazy things to him. He felt as though he'd lose control of himself. The feeling of her fingers running through his hair, the soft skin of her neck beneath his lips, the addictive strawberry scent of her hair. She'd be the death of him, he knew, and yet he also knew he'd go happily. He couldn't separate seconds from minutes when her hand slid under his shirt and traced over the taut skin of his abdomen.

She did that thing with her lips at his ear and he groaned, trying to keep his impulses at bay. His hands fit perfectly at the curve of her waist. Her hair was as soft as he'd always known it would be, the curls sliding through his fingers like silk.

He could've kissed her forever.

And then the bell rang.

They pulled apart slowly.

She was silent as they began to hear the footsteps of students flooding the corridors, their conversations mingling and adding together until it was all just noise.

"Thanks," he said.

She blushed, grabbed her wand and whispered the spell until the light shone brightly once again. She handed him his glasses before beginning to right herself, standing and combing her fingers through her hair in an effort to fix the unkempt look his hands had created.

"Hey," he began, "do you—"

She cut him off, dusting off her skirt. "Robe, tie, button your shirt," she told him. His hair was the same mess it always was.

His fingers were nimble and quick down his shirt, slipping buttons into holes in record timing before slipping his tie back over his head. She fixed his collar for him with a soft smile and tossed him his robe while she began knocking on the door and calling for help.

He came up behind her and took over, sliding her bag onto her shoulder for her and then pounding on the door while demanding that someone open it.

"Here he is."

"Sirius!" James yelled, recognizing the voice instantly. "Open the door, we've been stuck in here for ages!"

"We?" That was Remus.

"Remus," Sirius said in amusement, "I think our Jamesie has a girl in there."

"Black, let us out," Lily said. "We have to get to class and James is—"

He clapped a hand over her mouth and shook his head at her. He didn't need the whole castle knowing he couldn't stand being stuck in small spaces.

"Oh," she said quietly. "Sorry."

"Evans is in there with you?" Sirius' loud, bark of a laugh came through the door. "Incredible! How'd you manage that one, James?"

"He didn't _manage_ anything," Lily said. "It was all an accident. Now let us out."

The doorknob wiggled. "Hang on," Remus said, "it's stuck."

"Of course it is," James grumbled.

There was low whispering on the other side of the door. "Good question, Pete," Sirius said. "What _have_ you two been doing in there?"

"We haven't been doing anything!" Lily exclaimed.

"Well, that's a lie," James whispered.

She hit his arm. "Shush. I was only trying to distract you."

Only? James felt his heart plummet. "Could've sworn you were enjoying yourself," he muttered.

Her gaze flicked to him with a small smile. She stood on her toes and pulled him down by the back of his neck, kissing him chastely. Her heels returned to the ground and her hands left him. She opened her mouth to say something when the door swung open.

They were momentarily blinded by the light.

"So…how'd you end up in there?" Remus asked with a grin.

"More importantly, what did you _do _in there?" Sirius asked.

"Nothing," James said.

Sirius looked unconvinced, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "Mate, the back of your tie's facing out."

James looked down at the mess of his tie. "Damn it."

"I should get to class," Lily said. "Bye." She tried to make a seamless escape, head down and feet moving quickly as she cursed her flaming cheeks.

"Lily! Lily, wait!"

Her step faltered but she didn't stop, heading towards arithmancy.

"Lily!" James weaved through students to catch up to her, running as he saw her pick up to a speed walk. "Lily!" He caught her shoulder and she froze. When she didn't turn around, he stepped in front of her, meeting her startling green eyes.

"Lily, just wait," he said. "That…that wasn't just about me back there, was it? When you kissed me?" he asked, catching his breath.

She looked around quickly, biting her lip before shaking her head.

He let out a sigh of relief. "Do you still like me?" he asked.

She thought about this. "Yes," she said quietly.

He smiled. "Then will you come with me to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

His expression fell at her unsure look. "I don't know," she told him carefully.

That wasn't a no, he reminded himself. "Will you think about it?" he asked hopefully, not caring whether or not he seemed pathetic. He'd lost any pretense of arrogance with her back in the closet.

"Okay," she agreed, tucking her hair behind her ear and making to walk away.

"Brilliant," he said.

She reconsidered, turning back to him. "Actually no," she said with a smile, "I'll—"

"No?" he repeated, unable to hide his disappointment.

"No, not no," she said quickly. "Yes."

"Yes?" he said unsurely. "Does that mean…"

"No, I don't need to think about," she told him. "Yes, I'll go with you."

He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin."

**A/N: I had such a craving to write James/Lily, I just had to. I hope you enjoy it. Please review and share your thoughts. Thanks for reading!**

**Anyways,**

**Scarlett**


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